by Mchael Kelly and Mike Cocker

Thomas Walker watched the steam condense, forming tiny rivulets running down the walls of the bathroom. He lay relaxed in the tub. His limbs were very muscular; his torso well-defined -- a competent, tough specimen of humanity.

His hair was a damp, dark thicket. His cheek bones were high, his face, though filled out and recovered from his battle with Kayli, was still long and oval shaped. His chin was firm and the line of the jawbone from ear to the apex of the chin showed clearly. His teeth were even and white; his mouth was well-shaped with a short upper lip. His eyes were wide apart, intelligent and of an unusual brown; the choler lines about them were developed. An intelligent, strong and clever face, hardened by experience but owning little softness or philosophy. His toughness was immanent and deep-rooted, without savagery, yet quick, hard, and dangerous.

Thomas was a man who tried to see one thing at a time, who put focus on that thing. On his chest and abdomen was a large bruise where he had been branded with a intense energy blast from Kayli on one of her more playful moments. Allowing his mind to back for a moment, to remember some of the things that happened during the fight he had with the outlandish woman, Thomas realized that she was nothing more than a hired thug who adored to punish and victimize. Although she called herself a warrior -- and her skills in unarmed combat without a doubt surpassed his own -- her thirst for battle was not that of any warrior.

Kayli was nothing like Thomas' Black Foot ancestors. These people fought for honor, and stood their ground to protect their heritage. They exemplified the heart and soul of a true warrior. Much like the Lubicon Lake Cree.

Scowling, Thomas let out a heavy sigh, angry at himself for allowing the outlandish Saiyan to monopolize his thoughts; he knew damn well that the brunt of his concerns were to revolve around the corporate juggernaut, Anbu-Jigyoukai International. But he let her get to him.

Thomas rose and stepped out of the bath, dried himself, put on a pair of blue jeans and went into the bedroom. He was just about to rest for a few minutes when the phone rang.

Thomas picked up the receiver as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Hello?"

"Thomas, please, you must return to the village." The voice was male, slightly raspy, and venerable.

"Elder Shenandoah?" Walker replied. "What is it?"

"A strange visitor is at the tavern asking for you."

"Kayli?" Thomas quickly asked. "And is she still there?"

"No, not Kayli. A man... A very peculiar man. But yes, he's still at the tavern. Waiting quite patiently, actually."

Thomas stiffened slightly. "And what about the council? They voted for me to never return to the village." His head dropped. "Not after what I allowed Kayli to do."

"Forget about the council, Thomas. This man seems very interested in meeting with you, and he looks like he's staying here until you arrive."

"I have no idea who this man could be..." Thomas pondered for a moment. He hoped it wasn't another enforcer hired by AJI. "I'm on my way."

Thomas hung up the phone and quickly finished dressing. Once he was ready to leave, he placed a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside doorknob of his hotel room. He locked the door from the inside and walked over to his exit -- an open window.

Named after the wondrous body of water built around it, Lubicon Lake was once one of Alberta's more beautiful towns. It was a postcard-perfect locale replete with sprawling, lush landscapes and thriving wildlife. The town was reserved to it's justly proud citizens, the indigenous Cree, who lived off the fruits of the land in harmony. They never exploited what they took from the land, and what they took was of necessity. In every aspect of human endeavor they were the ecologists. They understood how to be one with nature.

However, in a matter of a few short and brutal months, their way of life was turned to dust, and as much of Lubicon Lake was blasted to ruin. The Cree as a rule have always relied on their basic goals. The most basic goal was that of survival. But it's impossible to fathom how the Cree could survive such a disaster. Yet they moved about the skeletal remains of housing foundations and heaps of rubble with no signs of personal injury. Their spirits, unfortunately, were as viciously scathed as the land they walked on.

A strange drifter waited in a makeshift tavern amidst the jagged bricks and obliterated masonry. He sat at a table all alone, looking over a small easy-to-read Star Wars novel. Occasionally, a snicker came from him as he read over an interesting part. Tobacco smoke was thick throughout the entire place, and as the tavern filled up with more patrons, the breeze from the broken windows had been lost. But the drifter was too interested in his book, or he seemed to be, that is. He didn't even care to heed the scowls and stern expressions directed at him.

But it was quickly obvious what caused the concern and why the locals were keeping their distance. The man was ostentatiously dressed. He wore a tunic and hat reminiscent of Robin Hood's, except that his clothing looked tie-died and a long peacock feather flared out from his hat. In other neighborhoods he might have been mistaken for a pimp, but no pimp had skin that shone with impossible colors. What was the most captivating aspect was the way these colors would not stay still! Like some psychedelic 70s video, the colors over his face and clothing swirled and sparkled.

Thomas guarded his scotch carefully against his strong chest while excusing his way past the lumbering elbows and beer bellies of the tavern's regulars. He walked towards the strange visitor, his eyes hard as they narrowed onto him. He guessed that the drifter was more than just a freakish oddity, but quite possibly a meta.

Then Thomas' assumption was assured as a fascinating display unfolded on the table top before the seemingly oblivious character. Almost as real as life, a miniature Luke Skywalker pulsed to life, drawing his lightsaber and doing battle with a shadowy opponent. The strange man controlled the images actions like a puppeteer.

The Indian placed his glass of scotch down on the table as he loomed over the still reading drifter. "Are you the one that's been asking about me?"

The illusions flickered and died.

The meta looked up at the man. He seemed a little disconcerted by the aggressive approach but recovered and stood. "To be sure," he finally said, "I am the one. I'd like to offer my compliments on your commercial, it was quite enjoyable and inspiring. I feel we have a lot in common. My name is Spectrum. Perhaps you saw me in the '98 New Year's bash on top of the glowing ball? To make a long story short, I'd like to offer you my help in dealing with corruption."

With a smile, he paused and waited for a reaction.

Thomas' brow furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah, I remember reading about your episode at Time Square. An interesting tactic you pulled off." Thomas began sizing the notorious outlaw before him.

Thomas reached out to shake Spectrum's hand. "My name is Thomas Walker, but you most likely know me by the name Totem." The large Native pulled out a chair and sat down across from the outlaw. "Are you aware of the cause I'm fighting for, Spectrum? Do I call you Spectrum?"

With a smile, Spectrum extended his own hand and returned, "Spectrum would be great! I know a little bit about your cause. It seems that the government has been supporting a corporations bid to claim these peoples land for profit. From your message, I gathered that there is some kind of government corruption involved. Your cause is to combat injustice against Indians. My cause is to root out government corruption wherever it may be found. Both of us believe that if the government is the enemy, it is our duty to break the law and restore justice. Are my assumptions about your character valid so far?"

"You're correct," Totem replied. "I'm determined to make a stand against how the government and so many free enterprising businesses are exploiting my people and their way of life."

Thomas stirred his drink and then took a sip of it. "You probably already know why I've been here in Lubicon Lake, so there's no reason for me to explain how AJI is destroying the Cree's land for a profit. But I will let you know that AJI is aware of my presence for I dismantled their logging complex."

Walker took a longer, harder sip of his scotch. "However, this wasn't my first attempt at destroying the complex. Because of my televised threat, AJI hired a mutant enforcer to protect the logging site. She calls herself Kayli the Destroyer. We battled and I was unsuccessful. Now she has taken these matters personally, and while I put the site out of commission, she did the same to this village... as you can see around you. Now, I want to stop AJI and Kayli once and for all."

Totem's eyes narrowed onto Spectrum, as if studying him. "Does this still seem like a cause you are willing to fight for?"

"It's right up my alley," Spectrum replied. "They need to be taught a lesson and it's great to see another person take the governments abuses seriously enough to fight back. If more people were like you this kind of corruption would be put to an end. I don't want my country to end up as another Mexico where the only way to see justice is to buy it or make it yourself."

"Well said," Thomas smiled. "Even though we've just met, I can tell you're a man of your word. It'll be an honor to work with you. In fact, your timing could never be more perfect. I've never infiltrated such a powerful corporation before, so if you have any suggestions on how we can rid this village of AJI and Kayli I would be more than open to them."

"Well, first of all, I've found that direct confrontation is far less effective than a generous helping of Truth. Our best course of action is to prove that the corporation is up to no good. If, as you say, AJI is indeed filling government pockets, we should be able to find the evidence we need at their corporate headquarters. Once we have the evidence AJI will most likely be ruined far more effectively that by busting apart a few buildings. Maybe we could even get them to pay to rebuild the village. I'd like to pay a visit tonight. I could do this by myself unless you think you could contribute to an infiltration and robbery in some way?"

"Hmm, a robbery..." Thomas drummed a forefinger on the table and pondered a moment. "Yes, I'm sure we could find evidence of AJI giving the government illegal handouts. I take it you're skilled in code breaking. You want to tamper with their database and investigate their accounting files, am I right?"

Thomas suddenly noticed a slight frown across Spectrum's iridescent features. "Unfortunately, something a lot less scientific than that," the outlaw said. "My talents do not run in that direction, unless you.... No? Well we'll just have to try a gamble. I can use X-Rays to spot the location of any safe in the building. The main safe should be obvious. Once the safe is located we make our way to the room. If there are guards, neutralize them and the security system. Then I can use a special laser to open the safe. Then I take everything, particularly any paper. Once we have time and I can hire a few good lawyers, please ignore the oxymoron, hopefully we can find something incriminating. It probably is not necessary for you to accompany me."

"Sounds very risky yet the idea has promise." Hard lines suddenly washed over Totem's face, his smile fading. "But, I'll accompany you. There's still a possibility of Kayli being under their employment. And if that's the case, she has a serious lesson in humility coming her way."

Spectrum's eyes twinkled. "Well, my new found friend, it looks like we have quite a day stored for us."

Ottawa had once seemed like a sightseer's dream to Thomas Walker. Unique in its history, geography and lifestyle, the capital city of Canada offered a wide variety of urban attractions: many of Canada's best museums and cultural facilities, as well as the Parliament Buildings and other historical structures, were located there. Ottawa was the majestic heart of Canada.

But Ottawa didn't seem like such a dream anymore. Nor did Thomas consider it the majestic symbol so many travel agencies painted it to be. Gray buildings belched black smoke on either side of the road. Thomas peered through the windshield, frowning at the surroundings. The new section of the city, built around the reconstructed older center, was just ahead. If they passed more than a few blocks into that, they would have gone too far.

Then, suddenly a four-square, six-story building with an expansive parking lot came into view on the right, straddling the line between the industrial section of the city and the broad sprawl of offices and apartment buildings just ahead. The truck made a horrible grinding noise as Thomas downshifted, pulling the rented truck over to the side of the road. A much larger truck, spewing its own noxious fumes, trumpeted its driver's disapproval just before it thundered by.

"Well, here we are," Totem said. "I'm gonna pull over to a side street and park. No way we're gonna pass the gate without the proper authorization."

"Fair enough," replied Spectrum. "I can't wait to get inside."

No matter what anyone said, Spectrum kept assuring himself, AJI headquarters in Ottawa was the place where all the Canadian AJI executives got their orders. No matter what division they worked for, it all lead back here eventually. As far as the public at large knew, AJI seemed like a Boy Scout's club in comparison to some of the exploitative companies newspapers wrote about. But that's because their crafty lawyers and accountants whitewashed incriminating evidence. Or at least kept such evidence well hidden.

Which was, of course, exactly what the kind of dirt Spectrum hoped to find. Any documents still in existence that could incriminate AJI would be inside those walls. Getting inside the building wasn't going to be too difficult, but getting the records was another story.

Thomas drove the truck down a nearby side road, parking it along its shoulder. Both he and Spectrum stepped out of the vehicle and turned to face the AJI headquarters.

"Meet you over there?" Spectrum asked.

Totem just nodded.

Colorful lights swirled around Spectrum, seemingly dissolving his form, and then the colors shot forward. A rainbow streaked out just inches above the road. It passed through the chain-link fence and stopped at a distant loading bay. One moment Spectrum was standing beside Totem and the next moment he was on the other side. The rainbow quickly dissolve. A flashy but effective means of transportation.

Moments later Spectrum saw something white and bubbling rise from the ground in front of him. He smiled as Thomas materialized before his very eyes.

"Okay, now what?" asked Totem.

Spectrum looked at Thomas, giving him a certain regard, much like a painter who studies his own canvas before he paints. Then he dropped his backpack and nodded affirmatively to himself. To Thomas' amazement, prismatic light began to radiate off of Spectrum's pulsing form. Bands of color cascaded outwards, refracting, melding around both the outlaw and Native American. Totem tried not to look bemused as the brilliant rays caressed him, but Spectrum could see it in his eyes.

And that's when the glowing colors congealed around the two men, washing out their natural appearances. The lights swirled together and took shape as holographic images finally superimposed themselves over both Spectrum and Totem.

"I took liberty in altering our appearances," Spectrum said. Only it wasn't Spectrum anymore. His flickering, opalescent features were now stabilized. Rainbow-colored clothes became drab coveralls; scintillating skin turned to a swarthy complexion. Even his backpack took on the new form of a toolbox. He looked like a plumber. "I figured if we pass ourselves off as maintenance personnel we'd be far less conspicuous. But stay close."

Totem didn't say a word. Instead, he motioned for the shipping and receiving door and opened it. He held it open for Spectrum.

"We'll start in the file room," Spectrum said.

Spectrum paused for a few minutes, concentrating, then spoke to Totem. "There is an extremely large vault located on the sixth floor behind the wall of an executive's office. There are also a number of smaller safes, all on various levels. I'm not sure which we should start with. Any opinion?

Totem thought for a while, then responded "Let's go for the big one." He figured that even if they did not find what they were looking for there ought to be something useful in a vault that size.

The two headed down a burnished hall towards a bank of elevators. One of the polished doors opened, revealing an actual maintenance employee. He looked at both Spectrum and Totem. He nodded at them.

Spectrum smiled. "How goes it, dude?"

The two then exited on to the sixth floor and marched down another plush hall.

"Here's the executive office," Spectrum said, standing before an oak door. He could hear someone on the other side talking to a person on an intercom. Spectrum smiled as he eavesdropped.

"...Yes, what've you decided?" asked the grainy voice through the intercom.

"Well, I've taken the opportunity to investigate the situation and discuss the issues with Ken. We have come to the conclusion that there must have been some miscommunication along the lines," replied the executive.

"That's not possible!"

"Mr James, I would like to be fair about this situation. Would it be possible for you to send me a copy of your meeting minutes with Ken? Once I received it, I could re-evaluate the situation and could clarify any discrepancies. If you would like a copy of our meeting minutes, I would gladly send you a copy."

"Mr Matsudaira, at times the meeting minutes aren't clearly documented and are very brief."

"Yes, I understand. This procedure is just one of the many steps that could be taken to resolve the issues. Once I receive and go through the meeting minutes, I will call you with my results and we can discuss them then."

"Fine. I'll have the meeting minutes sent out to you."

"Thank you for your time. Goodbye."

Spectrum looked at Totem and whispered, "Okay, we've got to take this guy out if we're to get to his safe. Think you can have him counting sheep for a while?"

Totem said, "Of course." And suddenly Spectrum felt a slight breeze slip past him. On the other side of the door was a the sound of a man collapsing to the floor. Then Totem spoke up again. "I made him pass out by taking his air supply momentarily. He'll be down for a while."

Spectrum used his x-ray vision and scanned the area. No one was coming. With a nod, he opened the door and entered the executive office.

The office was sizeable, and decorated to please a corporate VP. Instead of the cold white box of plastic and metal that was sort of par for the course at the close of the millennium, the room been outfitted to appeal to an older sensibility.

The walls were painted an off-white, but there was real carved woodwork at their tops and bottoms, and around the doorframe. There were bookshelves built into one side, a huge cherrywood desk, and a high-backed, burgundy leather chair that must have come from an antique store.

The computer and phone located on the desk looked a little out of place, for they were the only modern pieces of equipment in the room.

Colorful lights began to swirl around Spectrum again and he dropped the guise. He seemed relieved to slip back into his natural form. He reached into his pack and brought out a Coleman Lantern.

Totem wondered what the lantern was for as the outlaw lit it up and turned it on full brightness. The room was already very well lit and the lantern seemed to serve no purpose. Just then, Spectrum's body exploded with blinding brilliance, and an odd current seemed to pass through Thomas and all the light fixtures suddenly extinguished.

Rubbing his eyes, Thomas immediately looked at his modest digital watch with annoyance, black spots filling his vision. Dead as a doornail.

Spectrum looked at him with chagrin, the glow of the lantern playing off his incandescent form. He said, "Sorry. I keep forgetting that the EMP will do that. The security system in this room should be deactivated. You keep watch while I cut through this vault."

Spectrum removed a rather large painting from a wall, revealing the safe behind it. He chuckled, "Just like the movies, eh?"

Spectrum pointed his finger at the door of the safe and a beam of light extended to meet the surface. The finger went down one side of the chromium steel lock mechanism, burning a fine line into it, turning it to slag. Then he did the other side. He whistled to himself as he went about his work. It took about thirty minutes before the cutting was complete. "Could you move inside and push the door out?" Spectrum asked Totem. "It's a bit heavy for me."

Totem nodded, but he seemed lost in thought for a moment. It was Kayli. It bothered him, he was sad to confess, that he hadn't confronted her here. How he wanted to humiliate her, like she did to him. Yet his chance for retribution seemed to be an opportunity long gone. Totem frowned.

But a sudden calm came over him as he realized the striking truth, a truth he tried to remind himself earlier today. Kayli wasn't his real concern, and if he let himself be fooled like that he would only drag himself to her level. He'd be a goon, a thug, just like her. No, Thomas saw the promise in what he was doing right now, the bigger picture was so clear, and incriminating AJI would help his brothers and sisters at Lubicon Lake far more than any confrontation with a hired enforcer.

"Just imagine, Thomas," Spectrum said. "All the goodies inside here. All the dirt. It's really a thing of beauty, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Thomas smiled. "Let me help you with the safe's door, my friend."